


Subtle Wedding Crashers

by agustdwaekki



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: A lot of hugs, Dancing, Hugging, M/M, Mentioned Han Jisung | Han, Neck Kissing, One Smooch ft. three mini smooches, Slow Dancing, Soft Lee Minho | Lee Know, Soft Seo Changbin, Strangers to Lovers, and some other stuff it's a wedding, changbin alias yeonbin, crashing a wedding, for k, happy valentine's day k <3, inspired by k, k ily, kinda 0 to 100 but it's cute, mama minho look kinda, minbin, minbin magnets for each other, minbin rise, minbin whipped, minho alias ryujin lol, neck tattoo, oh yeah, rated for alcohol consumption, soft, softsoftsoft, they drink champagne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29486376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agustdwaekki/pseuds/agustdwaekki
Summary: Changbin's done this before, but never by himself. An angel sent from above, clad in a red suit and with the ability to turn Changbin red, makes sure he doesn't spend the night alone.(Minho isn't actually an angel, but in Changbin's eyes, he might as well be.)(aka minbin crash a wedding ta-da *jazz hands*)
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Subtle Wedding Crashers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youkanstay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youkanstay/gifts).



> i would lay down my soul for minbin i love them so much. 
> 
> this is a completely self-indulgent, late valentine's day tribute to k. 
> 
> this is my first fic on ao3! yay! unbetaed, but i hope you enjoy!
> 
> minor warning: there is minor alcohol consumption, but none of the characters get drunk. if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! 
> 
> lesser warning: prepare your heart this is soft? i literally almost cried writing it but it is 4:30 am over here so yeah :'(
> 
> loose playlist for the fic <3  
> spell - niki  
> heart - otr, shallou  
> cost - brett  
> this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker  
> blue - taeyeon  
> silent boarding gate - jun  
> drive - otr, panama  
> stay - bts

The key was to show up _forty_ minutes late.

Thirty was still too soon, and an hour probably meant you missed getting your order taken by the waiters. Forty was the perfect amount of time for everyone who planned to be there to have taken their name tags and their seats. And so, as Changbin stared down at the table with hardly ten name tags left standing, these were probably the people who could no longer make it. He smirked and nodded to himself. _Nice_.

Glancing at the names and the tables indicated on the cards, his eyes caught on one _Choi Yeonbin_ , _Table 14_ , as he supposed Table 14 would be far away from the crowd of nuclear family, extended family, and first and second cousins. Perhaps it was even bordering on old high school classmates that the couple had merely politely invited. And, skimming his eyes over the other nine name tags, a few others stated Table 14, as well, meaning it’d probably only have a handful of people. Less questions for him.

He slipped his fingers beneath the collar of his black tux, flattening it once again and glancing at himself in the mirror above the table. He arched his eyebrow and fixed a strand of his ink-black hair. He looked good, and he was here to have a good time. 

_Let’s get it, Choi Yeonbin._

Just as he reached down to grab the name tag, another hand shot out from the left, brushing against the same one. He froze, eyes darting to meet the owner of the hand. His heart briefly paused in his chest as he gazed upon a man whose skin and eyes seemed to sparkle in a manner much more attractive than Edward Cullen. He was dressed in a wine-red tux with a black dress shirt peeking through, brown wavy hair parted on the side and falling into his left eye. And it may have been the lighting but Changbin could have sworn the man was wearing some deep red lenses that matched his tux. Changbin’s throat was dry, unsalvageable.

The man stared back at him, his lips parted and his eyes wide.

Changbin gulped, trying to hydrate his throat enough to speak. He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with cedar and something sweet, like cherries. “Uh, are you Choi Yeonbin?”

The man stared at him, stared at the name tag his fingers were still brushing, and then returned his eyes to him. “Um.” He glanced back at the table, slowly moving his fingers to the name tag next to Yeonbin’s. “No. Sorry, I meant to grab this one. I’m--” His eyes flickered down and back up. “--Lee Ryujin. Wait, Lee Ryujin?”

He brought the name tag to his face, looking as if he wanted to skewer something. As if remembering the company before him, he schooled his expression into something neutral and offered a tight smile to Changbin. “Yeah. That’s me.”

Changbin nodded slowly, securing Yeonbin’s tag as his own. “Ah. Nice to meet you, Ryujin.” Pause. “And I’m Yeonbin. Like it says. On my tag.”

The man nodded, blinking once, twice, three times. “Nicetomeetyou.” Then he turned around quickly and headed down a hallway Changbin was pretty sure led _away_ from the reception hall. Perhaps he wanted to freshen up in the bathroom or something, not that Changbin could see anything _to_ freshen up or fix, as the man had looked absolutely _flawless_ , but that's beside the matter.

He made no move to correct the man -- Ryujin -- as he blew out a breath and walked towards the wide double doors on his right, the gaps of which emitted a soft purple lighting. He grasped the door handle and pushed, only for it not to budge. He tried the other to find the same fate. Huffing, he pushed both with all his might, until his face was purple with effort. He released them a few seconds later, wringing his hands and pouting at the door. 

He was about to try again when it abruptly swung forward from the inside, two girls pushing it open to leave the hall. They glanced at him weirdly, and he bowed slightly before catching the door after they passed and slipping inside.

He paused once he stepped in the room, surveying how there were about twenty circular tables placed around the room with a wide clearing reserved for dancing, cake-cutting, and speeches in the center. The color theme was purple and white, which Changbin found quite ordinary, however the lighting and the fog machine made it look the slightest enchanting. In the clearing, there was a raised platform upon which sat the -- oh! There were two brides, both wearing white suits with purple lacing and detail. A genuine smile graced Changbin’s face as one of the brides held the other’s hand, speaking into the mic with such passion and joy. 

Changbin then averted his eyes to the number-holders standing on each table, setting off towards the left side of the room as he saw the numbers decreasing from twenty. He found Table 14, set with ten seats and table mats, four of which were occupied. He nodded at the other occupants, taking a seat away from them and acting like he belonged there: fiddling with the utensils on either side of his plate, helping himself to some of the complementary bread and butter in the center of the table, and downing the whole flute of champagne before him. 

He had been seated for less than a minute before the seat next to him was being pulled out. The smell hit him first, cedar and cherries, before he glanced to his right and saw the same man from the name tag table sitting down.

“Oh! Ryujin!” he greeted again.

Ryujin glanced at him, and that same desire-to-skewer look crossed his face. “Ah, hello again.”

Changbin, being in a fairly good mood considering how far he had made it, patted Ryujin on the shoulder. He had the slightest itch in his mind that Ryujin wasn’t really the man’s name, but he could honestly care less. What he did care about was getting his order taken, getting some more champagne (possibly something more exotic from the bar), and having a good time on the dance floor later. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other tonight!” he offers congenially. 

Ryujin nodded slowly before taking his flute of champagne and downing it, as well.

Following the initial speeches, the waiters did come around and take their orders, as well as refill their flutes of champagne. They had announced a small break before the next round of speeches, in which chatter broke out between the people at the tables. Changbin chose to sip at his drink, hoping the others at the table wouldn’t direct a question at him--

“Ah, so how do you two know Irene and Seulgi?” asked the girl sitting across from Changbin. She seemed to be very well acquainted with the other three who had already been at the table when he’d arrived. Just his luck. 

He opened his mouth to spout some nonsense about having sat behind Irene -- which bride was Irene? He didn’t even know -- in all four years of their high school homeroom. Or her having babysat him when he was younger. Before he could, however, Ryujin spoke up, to his surprise.

“Seulgi and I attended the same dance academy when we were kids. Noona and I only recently reconnected.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, leaving no room for questions. Changbin began to reconsider his own doubts about the man’s identity. Perhaps he was an actual guest.

The girls across from them gasped and nodded. “Wow! Seulgi is such an amazing dancer! It’s so amazing you were there when she first started out!”

Ryujin nodded before excusing himself and heading to the bar. Before they could land the same question on him, Changbin followed suit. He let his eyes linger on the man’s form as he approached the bar, his broad shoulders and lean arms that were hugged tightly by the suit. And, as he drew closer, Changbin nearly tripped over himself as he caught sight of a tattoo peeking out from his collar, a snake with its fangs extended. 

Changbin reached the bar, gripping the surface as he had started feeling a bit lightheaded. There was no relation whatsoever between his inability to think and the ink that was currently less than a foot away from his line of sight. He nodded at the bartender and ordered a drink before silence settled between them, being the only two at the bar. He glanced to the side, set his eyes on the man’s neck _again_ , and decided he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wow, Ryujin, so you’re a dancer!” he directed to the man, pointedly trying to send his thoughts elsewhere. 

“Okay, look, dude.” The man’s response caught him off guard as he stepped closer to him, and Changbin’s eyes widened, attempting to step back, his movement hindered by the bar stool behind him. He gulped as the man stopped inches away, the smell of champagne and cedar and cherries washing over Changbin and causing his eyes to flutter. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Unable to form words, Changbin just nodded, glancing between the man’s scarlet eyes, the gleam of what was certainly some body glitter on his skin. And the beauty mark on his nose. And his lips. 

“My name’s not really Ryujin. It’s Minho. And I don’t know anybody here. Not even the brides.”

Changbin was still staring at his lips before his mind registered what he’d said. “Wait, what! But, at the table, you just said you knew one of them from the dance academy!”

And if Changbin was caught off guard before, he was nearly swept off his feet when the man, _Minho_ , cocked his head to the side and smirked lightly.

“They mentioned a dance academy in their speech when you were busy stuffing your face with bread.” Changbin gasped at that, pouting at Minho only for him to laugh softly at him. “I mean, it’s not too far from the truth. I have been dancing since I was a kid.”

Changbin nodded, gazing upon the man in a new light. Excitement ran through him, fresh and intense, as he realized somebody else was here for the same reason he was. They were completely removed from any semblance of relation to anybody else at this gathering. This was something Changbin had only done on a few occasions, usually with a friend or two, but his friend Jisung had called out last minute for this one, and he hadn’t wanted his rented tux to go to waste. Who could’ve known he’d find someone in the same boat as him?

“You wanna hear something crazy?” he asked Minho, taking a sip of his drink, watching Minho watch his mouth for a few seconds before reconnecting with his eyes. Minho nodded at him to continue. “My name’s Changbin. I haven’t a clue who Sirene and Eulgi are, who those girls we were sitting with are, hell, I don’t even know a Yeonbin!” 

A giggle slipped out from between his lips, and he didn’t bother to cover it. This is what he came to do, and now he possibly had somebody he could be himself around for the rest of the night. He mentally prayed that Minho wouldn’t mind him tagging along with him for the next few hours. 

Minho’s eyebrows raised as his jaw dropped slightly. “Wow, I did _not_ see that coming. Um, why the hell are you here?”

“Why not?” Changbin threw back, shooting Minho a smirk of his own as he downed his drink and ordered another. “How about you? How did you find yourself in this situation, with me at a random bar at a random wedding?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “It was a dare. My friend’s dad is a waiter here, so he knew there would be a reception tonight and he dared me to attend as a guest. If I pull it off without anybody realizing, he has to pay up. 100 dollars.”

Changbin whistled, offering his fist for a bump. “My lips are sealed, but only if I get your number and we hang out somewhere with a more casual dress code next time,” he said cooly, sipping his new drink and averting his gaze as his face grew a bit hot. Seo Changbin, shooting his shot with the man that was _wayyyy_ out of his league at a random bar at a random wedding because things like this didn’t happen every day.

A hand entered his field of vision, and he gazed at Minho questioningly before Minho tilted his lips into a smile, saying, “Hand me your phone.”

They returned to their seats not too much later, the food having been served. Perhaps they’d lost track of the amount of drinks they’d consumed at the bar, but Changbin knew he wasn’t drunk. Slightly more than buzzed, but he felt warm and tingly and overly fond of the man he’d only met an hour ago. Minho was probably as inebriated as him, the slightest blush on his cheeks and a permanent lazy lilt set on his lips, occasionally broken by a grin in response to something Changbin had said. After the meal was over, with a full stomach and a full heart, Changbin felt _so good_ . He was content to gaze at Minho forever as he started to comfortably share more and more about himself, the sparkle in his eyes only growing. And the first time Changbin heard him _laugh_ , he nearly choked on his water because, hands down, that was the prettiest sound ever. 

When the speeches continued, Changbin moved his chair so it was closer to Minho’s, and they whispered back and forth made-up facts and rubbish comments, integrating themselves further into the story of the brides only for the night, playing out their roles for a few more hours. Yeonbin, Changbin supposed, was actually an old classmate of Irene’s. She probably saved him from getting beat up one day (Minho agreed that he, too, had to urge to punch Changbin’s face, and Changbin pushed him away before drawing him close again with a hand on his collar) and thus began their high school camaraderie. The girls at the table shot them annoyed glances once or twice, but Changbin and Minho were in their own world. 

After the brides danced with their parents and each other, the dance floor was opened up, quickly filling with people as some generic love song was played by the DJ. Changbin and Minho sat in a gentle silence side by side, watching strangers rejoicing together, seeing some things that should probably remain behind closed doors, but for one night they probably weren’t allowed to judge or complain. They were the intruders, to put it bluntly, gazing in from the outside. However, it really wasn’t about the other people, it was mostly for them, to be among hundreds of other people and remain unseen. To fill a vacant spot but not really make a difference, just for one night, like a shadow imprinted beneath your eyelid. By the time the guests opened their eyes again, Changbin and Minho would be gone. 

“I think that lady is going to break something if she keeps doing that,” Minho commented, breaking Changbin out of his reverie. He sipped at his water, his arm thrown around the back of Changbin’s chair and his body angled towards him. Changbin felt the warmth of his arm centimeters from the nape of his neck, tempted to lean back into it but making no move to do so.

“Yeah, like you could do better,” Changbin quipped absently, before remembering a little piece of information. Minho was a dancer. 

He gulped and glanced at the man beside him, whose eyes were sparkling more than ever with mischief and confidence and a brazen, _You really went there?_

“Oh yeah? Would you like me to show you?”

His hair was still falling into his eye, and Changbin couldn’t count the number of times he’d itched to brush it away. He turned his body to face Minho, resting his arm on top of Minho’s along the back of his chair and playing along. The smile on his face was all too real, however, his cheeks straining at his attempt to tone it down. His fingers subconsciously traced circles on Minho’s bicep through his suit.

“Oh, please do, dancing prodigy,” Changbin teased, and he’d barely gotten the last word out before Minho was standing, slipping his arm out from beneath his and lacing their fingers together. He turned so that his back was to the dance floor, walking backwards as he dragged Changbin with him, his eyes intense like a predator watching his prey.

Changbin made a weak attempt at struggling, on one hand not having anticipated that Minho would drag him along, but on the other hand he absolutely could not disconnect their hands when they felt so good together. And so, the duo ended up on the outskirts of the dancing crowd, Minho locking Changbin’s hands behind his neck and setting his own on Changbin’s hips. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, uncertainty flashing in his eyes for a second. 

Changbin stepped forward, tightening his grasp behind Minho’s neck and resting his forearms on his shoulders. At this proximity, Minho could interlock his own hands at the base of Changbin’s spine, and he couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran up his spine. If Minho felt it, he didn’t let on, simply relaxing into Changbin’s hold and beginning to move them slowly. The competitive edge and teasing had completely left their minds as they focused on the other’s embrace, Changbin trying to memorize the view of Minho with purple lights in his hair and illuminating his eyelashes, setting alight the glitter on his cheeks yet again -- that distracting glitter Changbin wanted on his own cheeks or lips. 

As if he could read his mind, Minho closed the gap between them, Changbin’s heart freezing in his chest before it was given some reprieve, for Minho had just rested his head on his shoulder, a feat that should have been difficult given their height difference, but Changbin didn’t question it. He followed suit, resting his temple on the wine-red shoulder before him, eyes open and trained on the side profile of Minho, the tattoo now centimeters away from his lips. 

Changbin was weak.

He closed the distance, placing a light but lingering kiss on the inked skin, and he felt more than heard Minho’s gasp as his breath hit his own neck. Pulling away, he rested his temple on Minho’s shoulder again, smiling contentedly. Minho pinched his lower back, causing Changbin to jump but he simply laughed, and they continued to sway.

When the music began to pick up again and transition from the ballads and love songs to something more energetic, Minho and Changbin lifted their heads but didn’t pull away from each other. Minho grinned as he began to sway his hips with more purpose, and Changbin nearly exploded into flames but danced along. A familiar song came on, one that Changbin quite enjoyed listening to in his free time, one that had played at raves and clubs he’d been to before, and he straightened, gripping Minho’s arms excitedly and singing along. Minho reciprocated the grasp and, as the beat dropped, they jumped together, whooping and cheering. Changbin’s hands found their way to Minho’s face, cupping his cheeks as he sang, “ _Wherever you are, I know you always stay._ ” Minho’s eyes crinkled as he cupped Changbin’s face in his hands, their jumping having faltered as the last few notes of the song filtered into the next, but neither of them would have been able to recall what it sounded like. Minho’s eyes darted between both of Changbin’s, but Changbin’s eyes were fixated on his lips. 

“Please,” he whispered, surely not audible, but Minho responded by closing the distance between them, this time connecting their lips. Changbin’s eyes fluttered closed as his hands fell from Minho’s face to either side of his neck, to his shoulders, and then back up so his thumbs could gently caress his cheeks. Champagne on his lips, Minho’s intoxicating scent flooding his other senses. He finally lifted one hand to brush away those strands of hair behind Minho’s ear, keeping a hand threaded in his locks. Minho tilted his head, deepening the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away, placing one, two, three short kisses. Changbin kept his eyes closed, afraid he would melt right there if he looked at the man responsible for setting a fire in his stomach. He wrapped his arms around Minho again, burying his face in his neck and resting his lips against his pulse. Minho hugged him back, and they swayed as they had done before, even though the people around them were jumping, even though the beats were anything but soft. 

An hour later, they walked hand in hand out of the building, swinging their locked fingers between them as they waited for an Uber. They had learned they both live in the city, albeit with such a populated city there was little chance their paths had crossed before or would have crossed in the future. _But they had crossed tonight_ , Changbin thought to himself, smiling and gazing at Minho.

“What are those heart eyes for, huh?” Minho asked, acting disgusted but pulling Changbin closer to him.

“What are the odds of us crashing the same wedding, reaching for the same name tag, ending up at the same table…” Changbin trailed off, amazed and a bit scared at how random this whole encounter had been, yet extremely grateful. For he didn’t know where they would go from here, or if Minho would ever look at his number in his phone after tonight, but maybe tonight was enough. Of course, Changbin wanted this to carry on, but he was happy there had been anything at all. He’d expected a lonely light with a minor adrenaline rush and free food, but tonight had been _fun_ , dizzying, captivating, magical. All because of the person beside him. It was crazy.

Minho seemed to share the sentiment as his grip tightened on Changbin’s hand, and he stared at him with fond eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m glad. Can we….” He bit his bottom lip, pulling Changbin towards him, wrapping his arms around his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. “Can we meet again? Doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but maybe next week. Next month? If you’re not sick of me--”

Changbin slapped his shoulder. “Of course I’m not sick of you. This has been the best night I’ve had probably my whole life. I’m not even exaggerating.” More quietly, he said, “Thank you. Let’s definitely meet again.” Then, “Don’t just throw away that number I gave you. It’s worth millions, so many other people would want to be in your shoes--ow!”

Minho shoved him away, laughing. “I regret saying anything! Forget it, let’s part ways for good!” He fought off Changbin's advances as he tried to hug him again, until he gave up and let him crush him in a tight embrace, Changbin’s lips finding his tattoo again. “I think you like my tattoo more than you like me,” Minho mumbled, and Changbin huffed a laugh, kissing it again.

“I like your tattoo a lot, don’t get me wrong, but I like you a billion times more. Take that as you will,” Changbin told him, swaying them to music from their memories, and Minho swayed along, kissing his forehead to convey he understood, he felt the same, he’d definitely text him later, they’d meet again and kiss again, and that this would not be their last dance. ◻️

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> stay safe, everyone, and stream my pace <3


End file.
